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Trailer for my new film.
Reviews
Black Cat Whiskey (2013)
Strong material, Great acting
Black Cat Whiskey: Like its immediate predecessor, Black Cat Whiskey is bookended by very captivating and well-conceived material that's connected by a long second act mostly comprised of plot-work and lots of medium close-ups. Here though, the delineation between what works and what is less inspiring becomes more clear with director Fredianelli's cinematography, for as is immediately apparent in the film's opening, the style has been pushed in the forefront. Opening with a deep-black interrogation room, the subtle lighting, shadows (these highlighted by the Bluray format, which really shines in rendering these aspects of the cinematography), and sullen performance by the actors all give the movie an incredibly strong sense of mood that carries over into the flashbacks comprising the majority of the film. We then get a more restrained style characteristic of the film as we get settled in the relationship between the battered woman from the opening and her husband. The period settings really shine in these moments, from the two piece telephone to the old car. The film quickly takes a left turn from this developing plot line (promising as it is), and we then get another very strong tonal segment where we see Katie, ably performed throughout by Vanessa Leigh, milling about her home and trying to find a new rhythm. While perhaps not quite as popping as the opening, this sequence bespeaks a real maturity in terms of the editing, individual shots, and performance. These images are perhaps the most beautiful Fredinelli's shot, and at this point, I was wrapped up in the film's pacing, tone, and mood. Unfortunately, despite the best cast ever put together for a Wild Dogs feature, we then get into a rhythm of dialogue scenes (mostly shot, as said above, in a mixture of medium and extreme close-ups) punctuated by the occasional gunfight. As good as the actors are, this mixture finds itself limited in that as good as the gunfights are (the muzzle flashes, in particular, have come a long way, being punctuated by plenty of Verhoeven-sized blood splurts), the piece fails to grab onto any sense of rising tension, characters are seemingly nonplussed by the increasing amounts of mayhem, and even really interesting character tics (like Hayden's predilection for posteriors or Sheridan's growing affection for Katie) end up as just more elements of the plot. By the time we get to an unexpected interracial relationship between Katie and a worker, the film proceeds in a rather calm, if not torpid, pace and mood, that is, until the relationship breaks down in a shocking sequence which is easily the best- conceived idea of the film. The work done in the narrative at this point really builds to a satisfying conclusion, the dialogue throughout about Katie's being hit reaching a sad, melancholic conclusion. The build-up is a bit out of left field, but the ensuing sequence again captures that sad, jaded mood so effectively built up in the previous sequence. This mood largely carries through the conclusion of the film, offset but not derailed by some truly horrendous CG flames that completely deflate the power of the moment they are used for (the reverse shot of the characters watching the fire, by contrast, works just fine on its own). Ultimately, like I Die Alone, the ideas here are really good, but get bogged down by the film's dogged allegiance to keeping the narrative together, often to purposes not representative of the film's strongest ideas, character ticks, and most dramatic sequences. Like I Die Alone, it's often hard to get a sense of where the film's going but an equal sense of scenes often screaming "this development will be returned to." I think it's a mixture of moments of uninspired scripting but also in the mise-en-scene, with long stretches of the film dedicated to dialogue directed with much less flair than material the director more obviously cares about.
I Die Alone (2013)
Weak Middle Hour but Great Book-Ends and DTV Action
I Die Alone: Featuring perhaps the highest budget of any of Fredianelli's films, I Die Alone has at least 2 or 3 really great set pieces, some really good ideas, and a really long second act. Beginning with a larger skirmish and finally ending in an abandoned base (that somewhat resembles a Concord, CA housing project), the piece's bookends get the blood going suitably, with some really nice work on sound and some very bloody squibs. The pacing and tone get switched around a bit as we get situated in the narrative, centering around Carl Schreiber's whiny soldier archetype. We get a lot of soldier clichés as we spend the first few minutes in a set-bound bunker, with a burned-up Michael Nose in the background of the sequence. We then get a mixture of voice-over (I was rolling my eyes at it a bit in the beginning, but it pays off with accumulation if the viewer's patient enough) and dialogue sequences (the discussion of Korean prostitutes is suitably sleazy and fits the DTV feel of the set, so far so good). You get a sense that the movie's going to end up involving Nose's character and Schreiber either dueling with each other or having some kind of extended conflict, but it's going to be another half-hour until we finally get settled into the movie's primary rhythm, which involves Schreiber wandering around, falling into traps, and dealing with a homicidal mail carrier (actor Marc Litman seemed difficult enough to work with in the included "Blooper" reel, but otherwise has a fine screen presence and charisma). Early on, the mixture of grit and cliché (a shot of a woman back home getting the son's KIA letter in particular seemed familiar from, well, every war movie?) worked out an interesting mix between the classical films being made during the film's setting and the trajectories we've come to expect from films like Saving Private Ryan or Eastwood's WWII combo. All in all, where we end up for most of the movie is in a rough mishmash of varying tones, the narrative's plotting not nearly as dense (or random) as something like The Dry Blade but too dry and without tonality, for the most part (there are some really nice shots of the guys walking through what look like wheat fields). What that creates is a really difficult plodding middle hour or so, where we get occasional blasts of action amidst tedium and character ticks. One wonders if the lack of mood in these moments comes as a result of the actors or the writing (given my lack of affection for Schreiber's screen presence, I'd guess the former, although he manages some really nice moments in the 3rd act). We finally get going again in the base-bound final act, and the film regains a sense of urgency, rushing headlong through a well-executed shootout and into a mystical plot twist that really paid off some of the earlier work done with the voice-over. One gets the feeling that with more rounding out of that second act around the tone or mood that the ending suggests that we might have had something quite special on our hands, but so much of the middle of the movie seems to be checking off plot points that the entire project's merits are undersold a bit in execution. Ultimately, interesting failures can be more gratifying than complete successes, and if you're willing to endure its lesser elements, I Die Alone has a helluva lot to like.
Money for Angels (2012)
Old-School Crime Thriller with Icy Veins
A second viewing of Fredianelli's latest both smoothed out some of my initial issues with it but exacerbated others. But make no mistake, for its first 2/3, this is some of the best filmmaking of Fredinaelli's career. The kaleidoscopic narrative revolves around his usual themes of humanity's general ugliness, but there's more balance here to the morality, mostly due to the show stopping shot-reverse shot showdown between Fredianelli and newcomer Zoe Winter in a seedy hotel room. The moody lighting, the longer takes, and the simplicity of the editing allow both actors to work the scene out in an organic, powerful way. Winter, in particular, does quite a lot with her silence that gives the scene a gravity and intimacy that makes it surprising that the two characters had just met. But that's also ignoring what builds to that narrative, and I think perhaps the most noteworthy move here is how Fredianelli, without warning, allows himself to kill of major characters without much pomp or circumstance (the kind that makes Joss Whedon a hardcore hack).
The film's second round shifts to capable actors, including some very interesting scenes among Big Spence and his friends. The part where Big Spence chastises his friend for crying while under gunpoint is handily paid off later when he finds himself crying as he waits to be finished off. The sniper sequence in particular sticks out as a nicely suspenseful set piece, even if its spatial distances between shooters and hits might stretch credibility (then again, that's not a valid criticism in my opinion, although it could also be levied against the BB-gun rifle that gets perhaps one too many close-ups near the beginning). Some plot holes are filled awkwardly, and we get the occasional awkward line read or line of dialogue, but those issues don't end up mattering much in comparison to some structural issues that come out in the final 1/3. That's not to say that the end doesn't have a lot of good things going on in it. The pedophile character, in particular, is quite well-drawn, even if I can't quite imagine Winter's character telling her about the girl knowing that he's a chimo. The ending scene, though, has just the right balance between significance and casualness that makes the film fire on all cylinders in its best moments. Maybe the narrative would be better served with fewer flashbacks and less emphasis on twist-centric finishing, but the rest of the film is good enough to justify it. And overall, Fredianelli's diagnoses continue to be more precise, more measured and mature, to keep things fresh despite a continued emphasis on misanthropy. In the end, the shots are mostly just right, sometimes quite beautiful (the hotel room scene, an early night scene, and the ending shots come to mind immediately), and we get the traditional weirdness (emphases on, in sequence, Cuban v. prosciutto sandwiches, and then Cool Ranch Dorritos) that we come to expect when we see A Wild Dogs Production Presents.
The Dry Blade (2012)
Superlative B-Movie Entertainment
Period pieces on low budgets are hard. Period pieces on HDV are even harder. There's something about HD Video that, to me, tends to make sets look more artificial than they'd otherwise be (that, accompanied by a tendency to overlight everything, a logic of DV cinematography I have yet to comprehend). Yet despite whatever qualms I might have about these aspects (see my much-hated review of The Scarlet Worm, after which I thought Fredianelli would cut off the movie flow to me in FL), The Dry Blade is largely a success. Sure, our lead villain has blond highlights, sure, we have to deal with the lead white dude (who has a great face but bores me to death), sure, we even have to deal with the fact that Fredianelli dumped one of the movie's best scenes in the 'deleted scenes' section. But what we're left with is a movie that proceeds from where WD left off on The Scarlet Worm in that it intermeshes a B-Movie mind with the sincerity that most of the best WD work has. HughBennie complains about the sudden irruption of the best martial artist in the film and his sudden dispatch . I love it, its logic speaks to an ad-hoc construction that allows me to get past the movie's tendency to take itself very seriously, especially early on. After an opening credit sequence that, to me, seemed to signal an art house vibe, we find ourselves in some serious DTV territory with lots of talk and plot building. I was getting disappointed already, an impulse that lasted roughly until Fredianelli, in short order, kills off every main character, including the father's wife. The thing that works here is that the movie has an attitude toward its construction that starts slow but slowly ramps up. By the end, we're getting actions scenes every two or three minutes. What seems to be a slow scene involving character development suddenly gives way to bedlam. Sure, some of the choreography is weak: the initial hand-to-hand fight being a bit dialed down and the swordplay in general seeming very slow (understandable considering the actors' regard for their own lives). What makes it work are the moments: the rubber gore, the fantastic super slow-motion shot of Nose flipping a samurai and double-impaling him, and a stunning moment when the wall of a brothel falls down after a war is unleashed inside. That brothel scene is one of Fredianelli's most ambitious set-pieces since the office shootout at the end of The Xenobite Progression, and despite whatever issues you have, I found myself going, "Yes, Freddi's going for it!" And that going for it extends all the way into the final showdown. Something should also be said for the cinematography. What I said about period pieces holds true, I think, for set-bound work (see Michael Mann's Public Enemies, which has maybe two or three shots worth looking at in 140 minutes or something). The intelligence here is to set the characters out in the middle of the forest and on paths for most of the running time. The exposure tends toward the blown-out side, and perhaps the filtering and color correcting can get extreme, but there's, at its best, a really nice feeling for the landscape. Finally, I should say something about the acting. Some would say that it's bad, but there's something about the staged-ness of the myriad and uneven broken accents that makes the whole exercise all the more satisfying. Nose's performance is indeed a bit of a sleeper, but he's surrounded with such nuts (including what seems to be his family in the brothel scene, as per the credits) that it manages to function and cohere. Fredianelli's choice to cut out the naked (ghost?) lady scenes seem inexplicable to me in this light. They're well-shot and interesting -- maybe we can see the unrated director's cut at some point? Easily the best Wild Dogs flick since The Minstrel Killer. Recommended for fans of Lone Wolf and Cub and movies starring Sonny Chiba.
The Scarlet Worm (2011)
A Professional if Slightly Jejune Expansion of the WD Aesthetic
The Scarlet Worm: Finally! Wild Dogs in mass-release! Longtime fans had a lot to get salivating over: Fredianelli free from starring and cinematography and able to focus on directing, Lambert writing (after his wildly successful two previous outings with Fredianelli), Stielstra starring, special guest stars, and a solid, sordid grindhouse set-up. Everything was in the right place, but with all of these elements, the final product ends up feeling a bit too restrained, a bit too tame to live up to its premise and the promise of all involved. If the earlier Fredianelli efforts sometimes felt a bit slapped-together or a bit rough around the edges, this effort feels a bit too pretty and concerned with professionalism (a gambit that seems to have paid off in some ways). A perfect point of comparison is A Habitation of Devils, Lambert's previous collaboration with Fredianelli. That movie is super rough around the edges, with a script that barely manages to bounce between generic stereotypes and digital video cinematography sometimes so underlit to the point of indiscernibility. However, it manages these hiccups due to a sense of what, for lack of better terms, I'll call "going for it." This same "going for it" mentality is all over other WD pics like The Minstrel Killer and even the recent Apocrypha. Why then does even Stielstra, normally a maniac when facing the camera, play it so cool? Why can't the genre kings (Fredianelli and Lambert) deliver on some of their promises? Why does Print have a reputation for being such a dirty bastard and such a merciless killer but never show us why? Why can't we see what makes his work such poetry to him (as he says over and over and over again)? Even the flick's abortion subtext feels pretty inoffensive and tame (unexpected, consider the distributor Unearthed Films, generally known for stuff like the Guinea Pig and Slaughtered Vomit Dolls). Money was well-placed to grab Dan van Husen, who provides most of the flick's best scenes, but even his work and the (as- expected) excellent shoot-outs feel bogged down by a laborious execution of the basic genre steps. There is a nice father-son dynamic between van Husen and Stielstra, but even that seems to too frequently be displaced in favor of other beats and concerns. I wanted to love this one so much, but in the end, I just can't find as much to love about it as in the cast and crew's other various projects.
Coin (2012)
Superb Gritty Horror Anthology
Coin: We're back to basics here with a quick and dirty horror anthology with somewhat dubious moral points but with enough verve and tenacity to make them work. After a hilarious and unique prologue (without a doubt Chad Kaplan's best work yet, excepting maybe his Bob Seger Cover Band cartoon), we hop into the anthology's first and best segment concerning an anorexic woman struggling to remain sane whilst also being stalked by a killer doll(s). This smart handling of various dramatic strands sets a nice tone for the series, of characters struggling with their own problems (most of them pretty loathsome, really) finding themselves in horrific situations. It keeps the generic elements fresh but present enough to keep any of the individual story lines from becoming too grating or frustrating in their own right. The build-up here works by amplifying each of the threads and finishes nicely and unexpectedly at that. But more terrifying than the dolls are the simple scenes of the poor woman watching America's Most Obese People on television. There's a certain lurking self- destruction in these moments that is at once sad, funny, and horrifying. The second entry has perhaps the most potential but falls a bit flat at the end and throughout due to an effective but annoying lead actor (the guy's supposed to be annoying, hence his efficacy). Again, a deep character flaw accompanies pretty standard genre developments, but while the ending here is still unexpected and strange, it's abrupt and not terribly well-executed (the jump scare could work but there's something off about the costuming and framing of the moment). The third section is a bit less successful and feels the most thrown-together of the bunch, suffering a bit from the acting but also the demands of their roles. Pulling off a hobo family is a tough business, and I'm not sure if this particular crew is up to it (although to be honest, I can't quite imagine which actors could, maybe Robert Z'dar for starters?). The fourth segment at first feels like it's out of a different movie altogether, seeming more like one of WD's crimers rather than a horror entry, that is until Fredianelli's strange libertinecharacter comes into the otherwise straight kidnapping story. It's also a nice piece for Nose who remains probably WD's most reliable acting talent. He might not be able to play any role, but he always brings his A-game with plenty of heart. Plenty of perversity and terror follows with a show-stopper of an ending. Out of the entries, it's probably the one that I would've liked to see developed further. Either way, this was a nice return to form, in my taste, for Fredianelli, after what felt like a restrained if not ineffective bid to wider viewership.
Apocrypha (2011)
The Icy Blues of Too Much Sun
Little known but pertinent fact: Apocrypha director Michael Fredinelli is related to Tony Fredianelli, a guitarist whose most prominent gig was in Third Eye Blind but whose real work happened in the late 80s as the guitarist for a speed metal outfit called, jeez, Apocrypha. Now, allegory's the cheapest form of analysis, but considering the movie's focus on the landscapes and destroyed minds of California, we could easily see the movie's exercises in style as a knowing chastisement for sell-outs.
The common intertexts for the film seem to be somewhere between Martin and The Addiction. But I'd make a wager that the director will likely find annoying and say that Twilight's the key intertext. That's not to say that Fredianelli and Reichmuth's script apes that series' Teen Heart Street logic. But no one can deny that the use of color correction here definitely echoes the cinematography in that run of recent Pacific Northwest vampire movies. The thing is, though, this movie doesn't take place in the Pacific Northwest, and that makes all the difference. The characters profess an aversion to the sun, but a pair of shades helps the situation. It's almost as though these characters have seen too much sun, have been around a crumbling culture of go-getters so long that their vision, along with their behavior, has been irrevocably turned as a result.
The movie's slow build in its first half hour allows for these kinds of reflections, but in terms of narrative, we meet with the most polished yet of Wild Dogs' classically-focused efforts. The ebb and flow of the narrative works well here, supplying the familiarities of the genre with the occasional shift in approach. There are some stock elements that fall flat (the fortune teller business seemed particularly convenient to connect disparate plot elements, and the CG is obviously a bit limited (about half of the scenes with vampire ephemera are effective; those with CG eyes end up being a tid silly by default). If nothing else, we can see Apocrypha as navigating a very tricky balance (that same tricky balance that Hawks, Fuller, Ray, Peckinpah, and others tried) riding between a hyper-codified classical aesthetic and interstices of personal investment. It may be far from Fredianelli's masterpiece, but in terms of expressing a state of being, we can see here a singular talent at work at a very particular moment in both popular culture and, in a sense, in the development of a directorial personality.
The Big Sleaze (2010)
A Wild Dogs Production Presents Postmodern
You know, with Fredianelli's continuous evolution as a filmmaker, certain tropes have become rather apparent. That's not to say that his flicks are indistinguishable from each other, but let's take the last three films. All three have a similar character arc for the Fredianelli-lead, all point to the (ever-growing) rhythms of hopeless, desperation, and nihilism, and the camp humor and violence abound to a greater or lesser extent in all three.
In short, Fredianelli's something of an auteur, but I feel somewhat privileged in viewing The Big Sleaze because it's a joke that maybe only 10 people will be in on. As much as it fits with all of the A Wild Dogs Production Presents flicks since A Bird in the Bush, it's as much a throwback to the 30-50 minute shorts that the director cut his teeth on from 2005-8, shorts that reveled in the insane and campy to such a degree as to be alienating to most viewers. That's not to say that these flicks are tame, but in comparison to the old stuff, they're accessible.
In this sense, The Big Sleaze is a great mash-up of Wild Dogs tropes old and new, but I think what really marks this new effort as a high water mark for Fredianelli is that it almost balances every one of his previous cinematic obsessions (the only one missing is racism) into a single product that presents one of the most drastic renderings of his descent-into- complete-nihilistic-insanity narratives.
That's not to say it's completely successful. Some elements fit better than others. The flick features Fredianelli's best gunfight but some of his worst pratfalls (although that moment fits with the Merry Melodies riffing). The humor's quite hit and miss with Robert Amstler, in particular, being quite underutilized. Maybe I'm too familiar with this kind of thing, but I personally found myself much more into the gradual descent into complete disaffection than the cheap and easy laughs to be found in Henry Lee and Nose's storyline (Lee's proving himself to be one of the better actors in the enclave though). The actresses here are the best I've seen in a Wild Dogs pic, and they fit right into the typical WD paradigms for female characters. The difference here is that the better acting points out just how crazy Fredianelli's protagonist becomes. As for the writer/director/star/etc., he's right at home in this kind of material, but it's always tough for me to get past the nerd suddenly becoming Randolph Scott, but that's more of a writerly comment.
I'm starting to get off my train of thought, so let me conclude. I'm not sure that The Big Sleaze is the best of Wild Dogs' recent outings, but I think that the director has crafted yet another nod to contemporary white male alienation (without forgetting, of course, how ridiculous this notion is). While I'm not sure Fredianelli went through a modernist period, The Big Sleaze is a postmodernist Wild Dogs flick, replete with references to Puffs, Socialized Hates, and an ending that riffs on the essential illogic in that last Sopranos episode. While I don't love the comedy, you can't help but shake the feeling that Fredianelli's onto something big here.
The Minstrel Killer (2009)
Atrocities and 70's fetishin'
That Fredianelli's newest represents new heights in homemade film-making (great locations, acting, special effects, sound design, cinematography) yet also manages to reflect on the videomaker's longstanding obsession with the nature of racism initially seemed odd to me, but The Minstrel Killer is probably the director's most successful merge of his camcorder aesthetic roots and his newfound professionalism. It bears saying that this film is an apex of homemade film-making with gorgeous digital videography and great special effects. Fredianelli does the 70's setting with a lot of love with all of the cars, long hair, sideburns, staches (Fredianelli's unfortunately very fake), and camp humor. I was a little bewildered by the retro-chic burnt out print-look though. Obviously, the film goes for a 70's look with the desaturated colors, but the DV never quite merges with the scratches, reel jumps, etc. Also, perhaps because my DVD player upconverts to 1080p, occasional digital noise made it into the picture, a feature I'm sure the director wouldn't appreciate but something that really pushed the ontological nature of the film damaged digital video, creating an undeniable tension between the retrofitted film damage and the general feel of DV that, perhaps unconsciously, reflects the obvious fetishization of the decade and its genres. In terms of the director's oeuvre, The Minstrel Killer more or less picks up where The Mark left off (even using the same actors in a similar racial dynamic). Fredianelli's depiction of racism here is honest and, through the use of the rural setting with myriad hillbillies, often as funny as it is disconcerting. Take, for instance, a scene in which two cognitively-deficient redneck deputies lie in the sun, talking about where black people come from. The utter absence of black people in the city only seems to push the casual or, to put it in better terms, latent racism of the "big city hot shot" Tex into the forefront. In the end, nearly every white person is accountable for these attitudes, from Tex whose attitudes toward black male sexuality keep him from forgiving his wife of infidelity to the good-natured sheriff of the small town who tells Tex his wife is now tainted, everyone in the city carries on myths even as they encourage the black "big city hot shot" cop who comes in on the case. That the killer so obviously wears black face throughout the movie only pushes on the illogical nature of the racist mindset.
Xenobites (2008)
Fredianelli's most personal statement
After dabbling with genre with the entertaining but detached A Bird in the Bush, Michael Fredianelli comes back swinging with his toughest and most personal crimer yet, a remake of his early short Xenobites. Originally a science fiction noir mash up along the lines of Blade Runner with a hint of Sin City, this feature length iteration of that universe largely diverts from the science fiction story line concerning government-made psychic cops who turn psychopathic and turn the streets of San Jose into chaos. Instead, it focuses on Icarus Van Calder's (Fredianelli) struggle to find a tape that seemingly every shady figure in town wants. Naturally, yakuza, Michael Nosé, and other violent types get involved, and things quickly become very complicated.
With the mash-up of a large cast and a lot of interaction shooting sequences, the film would seem to suffer from Bird's increasing loss of focus upon its central characters. Luckily, this film centers itself around character much more so than action sequences or even its cute colored objects within a black and white framework motif. Fredianelli himself has stated some dissatisfaction about his character: "I'm just going through the motions (and not very well at that) on the type of character I've done to death and sick of doing," but I think that detachment, that sense of the same-old same-old works much to the director's favor in this piece. Reminiscent of Alain Delon's bored performance in Un Flic, the frustration and laconic performance gives ways at times to staggering emotiveness, both in Fredianelli's writing and his willingness to abandon the familiar modes that he's already perfected.
Around the halfway point of the film, the crimer plot has unravelled for the most part, and the finish seems like it shouldn't be terribly far off. When he cuts to a still of a studious- looking man with a Briar in his mouth and the voice-over starts dictating on about a mission to assassinate the creator of the Xenobites, it seems as though Fredianelli's thus far razor sharp narrative, floundering for something to push it into feature-length time, has fallen into episodic storytelling. Although the transition does chop itself into the narrative, the story line that it develops between Van Calder and the creator's daughter turns the film from an entertaining crimer into a devastatingly personal statement about destructiveness in the face of human apathy.
To say that Fredianelli's general subtextual feature is nihilism seems like an understatement, but the work he's done films as disparate as The Mark, Violent by Nature, and the last five minutes of A Bird in the Bush all finally comes together as a cohesive statement in this film. Although I do think the film is misogynistic in all its excessive violence and emotional battering done to its female characters, it's clear in this picture that Fredianelli is not only aware of this tendency in the film but also manages to work on it, not to excuse it by any means but to shed some light on it.
After all the abuse, business-related and otherwise, and a nihilistic placement of his position in the world summed up by Shai Wilson's character: "censored by the IMDb," the light romantic possibilities with the target's daughter seems like an oasis. Fredianelli borrows Chaplin's dinner roll dream from The Gold Rush with a heartbreaking dream sequence that, natural as it could be, seems like it was lifted from another film in the context of the piece as a whole.
This turn seems to divert the crimer plot in the same way the romantic comedy moments did in Bird, but the turn here sheds more light on the central character than any facade of romance could. Do these things excuse such brutality? Of course not, but I think it's safe to say that Fredianelli's aware of this too in such scenes as the brutal dispatching of Cassidy via plastic bag. The explication of these aspects, figured into the two women characters, serves to highlight the overall destructive nature of Van Calder, something that seems like it could be changed if it weren't for the caprices of oblivious parties and the folly of fate.
for the rest of this, see http://todd1726.blogspot.com/2008/09/fredianellis-character- type-as.html
A Bird in the Bush (2008)
Fredianelli plays it safe but entertains in spades
Michael Fredianelli's long-promised foray into romantic comedies somehow manages to simultaneously expand his oeuvre's scope while confirming his own unwillingness to completely separate himself from his bread and butter. Fredianelli stars as Grant Oldman, a wannabe academic who winds up entangled with a wild girl named Babs (Jana Ireton) after she hits him with a car. After some perfunctory romantic comedy narrative, the narrative swiftly heads into crimer territory with witnesses to mob hits, insane Italian caricatures (the boss' name is Daddy Don Guido), and feds swirling around the increasingly afflicted couple.
The romantic comedy material (the first third of the film) comes off with varying degrees of success. A scene in which Fredianelli haphazardly goes to a dinner interview with Babs works pitch perfect due to nice acting and sharp dialogue. The scene's a perfect marriage of Fredianelli's brand of cranky old man humor (it ends with a disgruntled man firing a gun at our fleeing protagonists, just like Run You Motherf-----!) and the romantic comedy regimen. Unfortunately, many of the attempts at humor fall a bit flat with even a flatulent hobo played by Aaron Stielstra grabbing laughs only in reference to Less Human than Human. The romance itself has a pretty legit build (even if a bit familiar) but flat lines somewhere in the second act, getting lost amid the crime plot developments.
The crime moments do pick up the narrative and the humor considerably, and the fast-paced madcap third act zip with some great humor, helped by a hilarious performance by the increasingly indispensable Michael Nosé as the endangered witness who finds himself caught up with Oldman and Babs. The crosscutting between the outrageous gangster characters, the feds, and the protagonists keeps the piece brisk, and Fredianelli gets some genuine somber moments amidst all the cartoon characters.
That's the problem with the film though. Does its definite success as a fairly tough action- comedy indicate issues with the romantic comedy storyline? The first third definitely has its share of laughs, but they all fit in more with the action comedy template of the last two- thirds of the film, which points out the weakness of the romcom elements all the more. With all of Fredianelli's decidedly politically incorrect humor (a running gag has characters saying Barbara Streisand is "too Jewish"), dummies flying off of parking structures seems to have little to do with the lovers by accident storyline.
To further mud up the tone, Fredianelli transitions into his trademark nihilism here and there with little setup, resulting in a fairly flat and uneven conclusion. Sure, it's nice to see the real world implications of the narrative played through, but it comes so full out of left field that it indicates either Fredianelli's inability (or unwillingness) to fully depart from his normal material or possibly a critique of the romantic comedy genre's tendency to ignore the ramifications of its characters' dilemmas.
If nothing else though, the film poses both a challenge to Fredianelli to tackle disparate material with less hesitation and an affirmation of his ability to make genre work within his framework, at his will. The work within multiple genres might not work completely, but the fact of the matter is that the pieces are still entertaining and different despite the occasional incongruity.
Per qualche dollaro in più (1965)
My favorite Western of all time!!!
Great flick...from beginning to end. Tighter than The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly; Harder and more sophisticated than A Fistful Of Dollars: This is easily the best of the trilogy and is my favorite Western ever. Granted that I haven't seen much outside of these, other Clint Eastwoods, The Wild Bunch, John Wayne flicks, and a few others, but not much could top this one for me. Firstly, as always, the music from Ennio Morricone is beautiful. The action and cinematography are top-notch as always. The character of Col. Mortimer gives the movie more depth than Fistful, and the villain El Indio is top-notch. The final shootout is one of the best in the genre and the final shootout with the chimes makes me shiver. Then, to cap all things off, Clint Eastwood delivers one of the funniest endings ever when he's counting his booty. ***** out've *****
Hard Rock Zombies (1984)
The greatest plot twist of all time!
SPOILER ALERT
This movie, although it starts out slow, gives the most unpredictable plot twist ever. The band moves in with this German family headed by a 90 or so year old man. After the band is killed by the family, the German man takes off his mask and reveals himself as Hitler. I'd like anyone who saw that coming to email me.
A GOOD TIME!!!
High Strung (1992)
Under rated comedy extrodinaire
This movie cracked me up. Steve K. puts in a great performance as Thane, and Jim Carrey cracks me up as Death. The whole movie is basically one big rant, but you will find yourself telling your friends about it. Those children's books were hysterical! I've rented it about 5 times and am about to rent it again this weekend. Simply hilarious.
Broken Arrow (1996)
John Woo hones his craft here in America
John Woo, after his many Hong Kong efforts, came to America and made Hard Target (1993), which due to studio interference and bad taking of direction by Jean Claude Van Damme, wasn't as good as it could have been. Woo got a bad reputation due to his conflicts with both the MPAA and Universal, and it took him awhile to get this one off of the ground. Woo had never worked with special effects, so he was treading into new territory. Luckily, he got two great leads, Christian Slater (soon to be in Windtalkers), and John Travolta (Face/Off). They take his direction well, and each gives a good performance. As the traditional villain's henchman, which I like to call Indestructable Villain Sidekick, Howie Long gives a good performance, and dies a good death too. I never appreciated this movie that much until watching it tonight, and I realized, this is probably the most action-packed movie in a long time. It takes only about 6 minutes to get going, and then, boom! boom! boom! Action sequence after the other, no let-down in between. This movie has plently of shootouts, explosions, and great innovative twists (kicking the rear blade of a helicopter to knock a gun out of one's hand) to make a action movie good. John Woo's cinematography, the great shared moments (the 20 dollar bill and whatnot) are what makes this one a great action movie. Another thing that makes this flick great is that it gave Woo the power to get Face/Off, his best Hollywood outing, the greenlight. I'm looking forward to Windtalkers and love all of Woo's movies.
9 outta 10.
Hard Target (1993)
Not Woo's best here, but it could've been worse (and better)
John Woo, after striking gold in action cinema in Hong Kong, came to Hollywood in the early 1990s in search of success here. His first film, Hard Target, came out in 1993, to minimal critical and popular success. Many criticized Woo, and it took him over 3 years to put out another movie, Broken Arrow (1996). It wasn't all Woo's fault. For one, during filming, Jean Claude Van Damme wouldn't listen to his directing. Yancy Butler once said: "John would tell him to use the guns, but Jean would just go back to kicking." Woo found interesting ways to counteract this, and invented a awesome combo of martial arts and gunplay. Woo finished principle photography, then the movie was edited and submitted to MPAA for rating. The movie was issued a NC-17. Woo wasn't happy, but agreed to trim down some of the violence, and that he did. The movie was reissued, but still not refused. Universal Studios then took the film, cut it themselves, not trying to fight the MPAA, and released it. Some violence was trimmed (more arrow hits in Binder's death and some people being shot more than shown), and a sex scene was removed as well. The movie is still Jean Claude's best and one of Woo's best. The martial arts scenes are excellent, as is the gunplay. Jean Claude has one of the greatest stunts in history involving a truck, a motorcycle, and a flip. As for the plot, nothing special, just a new version of "The Most Dangerous Game." Good acting from Van Damme (!), Butler, and Lance H. make it easier to swallow as well. All in all, it gets
Seven outta Ten.
P.S. Here's to hoping they release a director's cut DVD!
Kids (1995)
Memorable...to say the least
I saw this movie the first time when I was 12 or 13, I loved it, being the sex-crazed person I was then, I loved Telly and Casper. I recently saw it again, now 16, from a friend's copy. I couldn't believe how much this film had changed in just 3 years. It disturbed me, I still laughed when Telly and Casper stole the 40 from the store. Telly's quest of de-flowering young virgins made me sick this time around, especially knowing that he was killing each one of them. I agree with another view saying this movie was a white movie, I'm white, but I've been to NY, and no white kid aged 16 or 20 would ever attack or talk back to a black man in the park around age 23. The most disturbing part though, is at the end when Casper rapes Jennie (the only character in the whole film I actually liked). It was hard to watch, especially when he'd say not to worry, that it was just Casper. It's good to see the girl that played Jennie ended up making it in Hollywood (American Psycho), but all in all, I have to say, my entire generation is summed up in Telly's words, "When you're young, nothing much matters. When you find something you like, that's all you got." These kids are immoral, but who can't help identify how it felt to be in control of your life for the first time and be independent, most don't go to the antics of Telly or Casper, but we all have that ruthless nature in us as humans. I'm currently writing a sequel to Kids where Casper is shot by a member of a gang (the guy in the park who got beat belonged to them) and Jennie tells Telly he has HIV before she dies of AIDS, Telly then goes back to the women he's had sex with and finds most of them have been feeling the adverse effects of AIDS, then Telly finds that the young teenager he has sex with at the end of Kids, has died. Overwrought by sorrow, Telly shoots himself. A paraphrase of a generation who can't do anything but destroy itself.
Ying hung boon sik II (1987)
Not as good story,but explosive
"Wow,pure dynamite,better be careful"
Chow Yun Fat utters after grenading the inside of a mansion,if you've seen the first, this might confuse you, Chow's character Mark Gor, died at the end, but lo and behold, he has a twin brother who kicks as much arse as he did. From the beginning,you can tell this is a A Better Tomorrow movie, all the characters from the first (who lived) are back, the plot sometimes is a little weak, but you can tell the irreplacable master John Woo didn't initially want to make a sequel to his breakthrough,but he made a exception to help out his friend Dean Shek,who was having money troubles at the time, everyone puts in a great performance once again, and I know this will sound campy,but it felt good to see Kit and Ho getting along,when Ken Gor threw on his brothers sunglasses and jacket, it literally threw chills down my spine. This film has been imitated by Quentin Tarantino and every American action director, Quentin took his famous skinny tie look from this movie.The final shootout, which was Woo's first really ballistic gunfight led up to his masterpiece "The Killer". Now although the story isn't as good and the film isn't as dynamic, the action scenes rock and it gives you another look at the saga which is A Better Tomorrow
Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991)
Once again proves you can teach a dog new tricks
Let me level with you,Terminator was one of the greatest action flicks ever,a mysterious storyline,great cast,and has two essential elements, a believeable hero (Kyle Reese),and a unrelenting villain (Terminator). Where the 1st shines the 2nd falls short, (SPOILER,if you haven't seen yet,don't read on!) the hero is the original Terminator,who isn't really a human,so can't be identified with,and the villain is the T-1000, a shape shifter,unrelenting,but not as good as Arny in the 1st, Robert Patrick is a great actor,but this isn't his role. The 2nd does do a better job of developing characters,but doesn't deliver the terror or excitement the 1st did. The visual effects are better,but compare Alien,Aliens,and Alien 3,the first two are hailed as some of the best,while the 3rd is one of the worst,although having beautiful effects,reason,lack of the terror and suspense the first had. Sarah Conner in the 1st was a woman,in the 2nd,she's a she-man from hell. I loved T2 when I was younger,but as I grew older,I appreciated that the 1st had a mysterious plot,I didn't want to know everything that happened, I wanted what happened now to happen now. Here's to hoping that the 3rd in the series is more moody and back to the original formula.
Ying hung boon sik (1986)
The trendsetter
John Woo started his career as a kung fu director,he then moved to comedy,where he also excelled, he was running out've gas when a well known producer Tsui Hark noticed his project "Three Colors Of A Heroe", Hark was intrigued,and agreed to produce it, gun fights weren't prevalent before this,because the HK audiences saw it as a skill that couldn't be improved,like martial arts or swords, John Woo showed them otherwise with this,Chow Yun Fat and Ti Lung really shine in this movie, before this,Chow, a tv actor was viewed as not cashable,and Ti, a washed up Wu Shu star,needed a new start,Leslie Cheung provided the confidence that theatre owners needed,after the movie broke all HK records in 86,all doubts were shredded,and John Woo and Chow Yun Fat were instant stars,Chow's infamous restaurant assassination scene, which was beautifully shot,is probobly the vision most ABT watchers remembered,after that,every young man in HK could be seen in a long coat and sunglasses like the ones Chow used,it also started the era of Heroic Bloodshed,that lasts even today,only John Woo could do it right, American directors tried to imitate it (Tarantino),but no one could do it like Woo.This movie spawned two sequels,and this was definitely the best,many consider "The Killer" John Woo's masterpiece,but this one was the original,the trendsetter,the best. Without this movie and Tsui Hark (God bless that man),John Woo would be nowhere (figuratively speaking), this movie is widely available in the US,so rent it or buy it (I personally like dubbing,but subtitles make it seem more poetic), 10 out've 10,beautiful movie